Act Your Age
by Serenity12
Summary: A take on the very hyped up on-coming episode "Act Your Age", in which Phineas and Ferb will need to need to hang on to everything that they are in order to withstand an impending force inflicting itself on Danville.


Every day was a good day in the city of Danville; at least, that was general consensus on a daily basis by the people who lived there. Occasionally, however, even the happiest town can turn a little sour. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and rain clouds had been stalking the city, blocking out the sun and effectively sapping the joy that came with a bright and carefree summer. It was the third day of a gloomy sky, and citizens were starting to feel the affect.

The change in attitude was so conspicuous that even the children took notice of it, and were starting to follow suit; all, of course, for two little boys who lived on the outskirts of the city, tucked away in a quiet suburban neighborhood.

"Phineas! Ferb!" Linda Flynn-Fletcher, a typical mother in her late so-and-so's, called up to her sons for the second time that morning. She quietly grumbled under her breathe as she continued folding the laundry, impatiently waiting to hear her boys footsteps stomping down the stairs.

"Sorry Mom!" The light voice of her youngest son bounced from upstairs, followed closely by the pitter-patter of four small feet, "Ferb and I were conducting an experiment on the stability of a free rotating layer in an electrically conducting fluid in an axial-"

"I don't want to hear it, Phineas." Linda barely glanced up from the pants she was folding into a tidy square, "I know how involved you and Ferb get in your imaginary games, but when I call you I expect a response, kapeesh?"

"It's not ima-"

"_Kapeesh?_" This time the red-head directed her attention to her sons, now standing at the bottom of the stairs, and gave them a look only a parent can seem to muster.

Phineas halted his attempt of clarifying what exactly had been happening upstairs, sparing an uncertain glance to his brother, and instead wisely evened his tone as he murmured, "Kapeesh."

"Good." His mother lowered her head and continued to focus on her folding, pausing only to point at a small pile of items on the table, "Now, tell me, boys, what is that?"

Upon closer inspection, the pile seemed to contain trace amounts of lint, torn bits of paper, a small flat stone, 5 nails (one of which was bent), a nickel, and a bubble gum wrapper. Ferb immediately began to sort the pile into two sections, carefully sweeping the garbage portion into his hands to throw away in the trash. Meanwhile Phineas gave a sheepish grin to his mother and starting collection the various items.

"Oh, heh heh, sorry Mom. Forgot about these!"

"I've told you boys time and time again to empty your pockets before throwing them into the laundry bin. Is that too much to ask?" Linda shook her head and eyed the nails in the palm of her sons hand, her mouth dipping into a slight frown, "And why do you have so many nails? I don't like you boys playing with those; they're not toys, they're tools. Go give them to your Father to put in his toolbox."

Phineas gave his mother a baffled look, and noticed out of the corner of his eye how Ferb seemed to take this as the perfect opportunity to throw away the disposable items, "Well we don't use them as toys, Mom, we use them to build stuff."

"Phineas, I'm all for you and Ferb getting creative and building some things, like that cute little fort, but I'd rather you have your father around when you're doing it-"

"But it's never been a problem before." Phineas interjected, and as quickly as the words left his mouth, he closed his lips tight and gave his mother an apologetic look. She had stopped her folding again and was giving him somewhat of a glare at his rude interruption, but be it out of love or failure to withstand her sons 'pity eyes', she let the mishap slide.

"I don't care what I've said before; I'm telling you _now_ that I don't want you using these tools without your father being around." Linda strengthened her voice, shouting out into the kitchen, "That goes for you too, Ferb!"

Her green haired son poked his head out from behind the wall and gave a silent nod of obligation, but Phineas continued to stare at her with perplexed eyes.

"That's all, Phineas." Linda took her attention off of the two boys and spoke with strained patience, "You two can go back to playing now."

"Umm…ok then…" Phineas turned to join his brother in the kitchen, but paused for one moment to spare another look towards his mother. She wouldn't meet his eye, but he noticed for the first time that her face was set in an abnormal grimace, as her movements were a bit more rushed than usual, causing her to have to refold the shirt she had been working on. He tore his eyes away and made his way to Ferbs' side, who was busy pouring a cup of water for the both of them.

"Thanks, bro." Phineas accepted the glass happily enough, but still had a spark of concern in eyes. Ferb said nothing, but analyzed his brother, peering at him over the rim of his glass.

'_One_…'

"You know, Ferb, Mom seemed a little out of it today; don't you think?"

'_Two_…' Ferb nodded, and waited for the inevitable.

"Come to think of it, seems like everyone's been a bit on edge lately, ever since it's stayed cloudy…"

'_Three._'

"Hey, Ferb, I know what we're gonna do today!" With a renewed sense of vigor, Phineas placed his drink on the counter on the counter and quickly began racing back up to their room, presumably to fetch a blank blue print for his newest idea. Ferb rolled his eyes with a smudge of endearment, and promptly followed him up the steps.

* * *

Perry had fallen asleep three times that day, and all three times he had been told to move. First Linda had gently nudged him out of the way as she came through with a basket of clothing, then Lawrence had nearly tripped over him as he brought in a large model plane set, and finally Candance had denied him access her bedroom by once more tossing him out the door. Finally Perry had found a cozy little corner and curled himself into a comfortable ball, and had almost found peace when a familiar alert signal filled his ears.

"Sorry to disturb your nap, Agent P, but is at it again! Reports from the field indicate a large order of pastrami, light bulbs, springy coils and super adhesive tape. Obviously he has something disgustingly evil planned! We need you to-"

Perry couldn't stifle a yawn as Major Monogram went through his usual spiel. He opened a lazy eye at the abrupt stop, only to find his superior glaring at him, his mustache turning downwards along with his frown.

"Agent P, I expect a bit more professionalism out of you. These cases are serious business!" Monogram spoke with a gruff to his tone, and Perry fought the urge to roll his eyes. Doofenshmirtz was never 'serious business'; ever.

Still, he gave his superior a salute, and 'unintentionally' ended the call before Major Monogram had a chance to dictate him even more. Perry made his way over to the living room sofa and, quickly reassuring himself that the area was secure, pressed a button underneath which revealed a trap door under the coffee table. In no time he was transported to his lair where he quickly grabbed his hang glider and made his way, almost leisurely, to the home of his one and only nemesis.

Really though; how much evil could he be up to with pastrami, light bulbs, springy coils and super adhesive tape?

Perry almost didn't want to know.


End file.
